


Method acting for intergalactic love stories

by LostinFic



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-18 03:45:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1413907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostinFic/pseuds/LostinFic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "I want to try this thing I read in a book"<br/>Work on series 2 just started, Billie and her new Doctor need to get to know each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Method acting for intergalactic love stories

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



“I can offer you tap water or beer,” David says, contemplating his empty fridge.  
“Looks like you’ve got your priorities straight,” Billie teases him, “But I think I saw your kettle in there.”  
She opens the brown cardboard box on top of the other boxes unhelpfully labeled “Kitchen & stuff”.  
“I’m sure I saw it,” she mumbles, digging in.  
“Don’t bother, then we’d have to find mugs,” he uncaps two beers using his brand new key, “moving is such a pain, thanks for the help.”  
“Not at all,” she replies, clinking her bottle with his, “cheers.”

She hops on the laminate countertop and he leans on his elbows right next to her, his forearm brushing against her Mickey Mouse hoodie whenever he brings the bottle to his mouth.

He looks around the bare kitchen of his new Cardiff flat. It’s a nice place but it feels foreign, impersonal, although Billie’s presence makes it about ten times better, friendlier. The strangest part is moving into a space knowing that is was previously occupied by Christopher Eccleston. It must be even stranger for Billie to see him where her former co-star once was. What will it be next week, when he’ll have to put on Christopher’s trademark leather jacket? He looks up at her and she’s smiling, a shy, close-lipped smile, like she knows what he’s been thinking about. She reaches out to give his shoulder a reassuring little squeeze and then, impulsively, she ruffles his hair making them both giggle. For some reason he’d be hard pressed to explain, he head-butts her tummy, like a cat seeking attention or affection. She laughs louder, now ruffling his hair with both hands, making his heart beat a little faster.

“You’ll be fine.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Yes.”

They get talking about work, the Christmas episode and how the regeneration will affect Rose and the Doctor’s relationship. Everything’s written out but they still have an input on how they will act it out. They must get the chemistry right, show what isn’t in the script.

“About that, I want to try this thing I read in a book,” Billie says casually before taking another sip of lager.  
“Sure.”  
He’s known her all but four weeks and already he’d do anything she asks him to.  
“It’s an acting thing. Because Rose has to get reacquainted with him, yeah? And Russell said there’d be more romance this series,” she explains, nervously scratching at the label on her bottle.  
David nods along, wondering where this is going.  
“Anyway, the authors in my book suggest that, er, that the actors should go out… a sort of date together.”  
“Do they, now? That is not something I was taught in drama school.”  
He rises off the countertop, a skeptical frown forming on his forehead.  
“Forget I said anything, it’s a silly idea,” she stands up and walks to the sink.  
David catches up with her and takes the bottle out of her hands.  
“It’s not a bad idea, it’d be fun,” he says, trying to reign in his giddy smile, “what about your boyfriend, though? Will he be alright with this?”  
“Sure, it’s for work, you know, two colleagues going out to work.”  
“Right, yeah, of course.”

They’ve agreed to do this properly so he puts on a nice white shirt with a thin navy tie and picks her up even though she lives right next door. His jaw drops when she opens the door. Her plump lips are painted red and she’s wearing a casual, but low cut, vintage dress. He hadn’t been nervous until now.  
“Wow, Bill, you look… a little tired. Have you been sleeping well?”  
He could kick himself, her smile fades and he tries to come up with something nice but the taxi is there and it’s too late.

Since he doesn’t know Cardiff yet, she suggests they go to a new restaurant she’s been meaning to try out. It’s one of those places that are clearly trying too hard to be cool. The dining room is mostly dark safe for vulgar neon writings on the walls, causing him to bump into a few tables while following the waitress, one of many staffs with an asymmetrical haircut and an apparent disdain for the clients.  
Once they’re seated, he tries to think of something to say but can’t seem to come up with anything beside: “Nice, eh?” with a nod towards the bright green “fuck off” next to them. To which she responds with a noncommittal nod and a tight-lipped smile. He wipes his damp hands over his jeans, reminding himself that it’s not a real date. 

She’s still observing their surroundings, trying to remember why she wanted to come here in the first place. Fortunately, she spots the list of drinks and finds a molecular daiquiri (whatever that is) which includes 5oz of various hard liquors.

The food listed on the menu seems to be nothing but the weirdest vegetables and animal parts thrown together, passing off as international cuisine because it’s called something like Pescaro à la Mumbai. When the waitress comes back, David still hasn’t figured out what’s what on the menu and settles on ordering the same thing as Billie. Shortly after, two pink and fizzy drinks decorated with skull shaped straws arrive. 

“So, where do you usually take girls on dates?”  
Her question takes him by surprise and he looks up, trying to remember.  
“I suppose I try to find an interesting activity. Shakespeare in the park is always a hit, you know, if it’s a proper date. Most of the time we just go to the pub after work and ….”  
“One thing leads to another?”  
David rubs his blushing cheek and laughs.  
“Yeah.”  
“You do have a tendency to date the actresses you’re working with.”  
He squirms in his seat and a teasing tongue appears between her teeth.  
“I googled you,” she explains.

But this night is not supposed to be about his love life but about their characters, he casually changes the topic, bringing up the fan’s reaction to the regeneration. Before long, their plates arrive and the content vaguely reminds him of that Slitheen egg which is far from appetizing. They taste it, almost reluctantly, and it makes them grimace as if they’d bitten into a lemon. They burst out laughing. He pulls out his wallet, throws a stack of notes on the table and takes Billie’s hand.  
“Let’s get out of here.”

By the time they’re out the door, their sides hurt from laughing too hard and they can barely breathe.  
“That was bloody awful!”  
“C’mon,” she loops her arm through his, “I know a place.”

It’s almost eight o’clock but it’s still light outside, the summer sky stroked with pink and orange hues. It’s hot enough that he regrets wearing jeans, he rolls up his sleeves and loosens his tie, opening the top button. The peculiar fragrance of Indian food, curry and cilantro, rises in the air, carried by the sea breeze. They buy Pad Thai in white takeout boxes and start walking to a nearby park, Billie pointing out interesting landmarks along the way.  
“Oh look!”

She takes off her high heel shoes and cuts across the grass. Curious, he follows her to a disused swing set hidden behind a row of weeping ash trees. She hands him her food, drops her shoes in the sand and hops on the tire swing (which is easier said than done in a dress).

“Come,” she pats the opposite side of the tire with a bright smile.  
She holds the boxes while he squeezes through the hole and her legs, trying not to knock her off the swing. Admittedly, it’s not the best place to eat, especially with chopsticks, but he likes the childlike quality of it all. With the tip of his trainers, he leisurely rocks them back and forth.

They trade boxes and finish each other’s noodles, he beams proudly when he successfully throws the empty oyster pails into a nearby bin. Then, she plants her feet on each side of his legs, gathering the fabric of her dress between her thighs for modesty yet revealing quite a lot of her legs in the process. His skin tingles where they touch, a lovely warmth spreading from the points of contact, and he knows that he could easily move his hands closer and stroke her toes with his thumbs. But it’s not a real date, remember? However, there’s something unmistakably flirtatious about the way she plays with her hair, exposing her neck or the way she hold her cigarette between her lips.

They babble about their families and their favourite books and that one time, in fourth grade, he declared his love to Suzy Robertson during the school play. She laughs and the stars come out.

An old drunk staggers across the playground and pees in the bushes. It’s time to go. Anyway, it’s getting late and they have a read-through tomorrow and he did say she looked tired. They take the scenic route, ambling along the bay and stopping for gelato, holding hands.  
“It’s what Rose and the Doctor would do, no?”  
Their stroll takes them by the BBC Wales offices.  
“I bet they’d let us get on the roof,” he says with a playful spark in his big, brown eyes.

The night guard doesn't stand a chance against Billie’s fluttering eyelashes. They sign autographs for his little boy and cackle the whole elevator ride. With a brick, they keep the emergency door ajar.

Up there, the wind blows stronger, making Billie’s hair dance around her face. With only the moonlight, they hear rather than see the waves in the bay. He gets caught up in the pretense, the nearness of her, the intimate tone of her voice and coy smiles. His hand strays from her shoulder, down her spine to the small of her back. She nudges him with her shoulder.

“Is this the part of the night where you kiss the girl?”  
“You know, I always figured Rose would be the one to make the first move.”  
For all his boyish charm and gentle manners, David sure is a lady killer when he turns it on. He leans over her, all smoldering eyes and taunting smirk. She looks straight at him and he takes one step closer, she licks her lips and his hand is at her waist. She pushes up on her toes. Their foreheads touch, their noses pressed together and she smiles as the back of his fingers brush her cheek, sliding under her chin. Her heart skips a beat as she takes the leap. His lips taste sweet from the gelato and the way they move, gentle and sensual, makes it impossible to resist reciprocating. Before long, his large hands are cradling her face and then her arms wrap around his torso, curving her body into his. And the kiss grows into something far more ravenous that makes their heads spin. The closeness and intensity make him moan. Or was it her? An alarm goes off in her head and she backs off. He grapples for purchase, not ready to let her go yet, but it’s all air and emptiness under his fingers. She looks dazed and flustered but quickly gathers her wit.

“You might want to tone it down, Dave, it’s a family show,” she teases him yet her voice falters.  
He laughs although his heart is not in it. He’s embarrassed, humiliated almost, but when he looks down at her, there’s something kind and wistful in her eyes. So he puts his arm back around her shoulders and tugs her closer, dropping a kiss to her temple.  
“Had it been a real date, I think it would’ve been my favourite,” she says and it feels like an admission, a confession.


End file.
